Goodbye, Irene

"Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But, when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by."
~Christina Rossetti~


 A week ago, my husband and I were sitting in the dark, in our house on the outskirts of Richmond, Virginia, where we live. We’d lost power about 1:50 p.m. that Saturday afternoon, and already witnessed the uprooting of a neighbor’s 100 year-old Oak tree. It had been tossed into the street like it was nothing more than a discarded toothpick. The winds were howling and whipping sheets of rain in a line across our house. It was eerie. Buzz saws had already been fired up once to cut a portion of the tree apart so that it could be moved from blocking the road, in case someone had an emergency and needed access out of the neighborhood. It went like that for the better part of 15 hours: howling winds, whipping rain and the sounds of trees taking flight as they crashed onto roads or into houses.
My husband and I sat on our front porch, with our puppies wrapped in our laps, huddled in a corner to stay out of the direct path of anything flying that doesn’t typically fly in the night. We didn’t know how long an ordeal we were facing? As it turns out, we were blessed because our inconvenience only lasted, as I said, for 15 hours. Still, we didn’t know it at the time as we tried to find ways to occupy the long night that stretched ahead. It was hot but, thank God, not ungodly hot. We played games of Parcheesi, and listened to the radio. Yes, we’d loaded up on batteries and candles and bottled water, peanuts and honey and other staples that didn’t need refrigeration.
My husband and I, after all, had both grown up in Florida. We knew a thing or two about hurricane’s and how to ride them out - being prepared. I had an added bonus: Girl Scout training: ALWAYS be prepared. It’s a philosophy that serves one well in life. This particular experience wasn’t new to either of us, by any means, but I find that the older I get, the less I care to find out just how "brave" I can be! I’m brave. I don’t need to prove it to myself or anyone else anymore. It’s a given. I KNOW it; that's all that matters, But, when we were kids, a hurricane on its way to our neck of the woods was an adventure. As adults....not so much!
I remember years ago, in particular, Hurricane David that blew through Jacksonville, Florida on Labor Day Weekend 1979. At the time, my parents were separated, and we lived in a town-home community. We weren’t going to let something like some high winds and heavy rains dampen OUR holiday weekend. We taped our windows with the X going across them; we filled the tub with water and had batteries galore.
We were prepared for him to show up so that we could "kick some @$$" as the guys would say. When you’re young and don’t know better, you can talk big like that. What really happened was that several of the neighbors banded together, and we made a kind of "Him-a-Cane" party out of David’s arrival. We had been warned by Mr. Winterling [George/our weatherman] that the power was going to be out for days so people should make a contingency plan for that. I had a black and white 5" televison with a radio attached and batteries out the ying-yang! It could also be plugged into a running vehicle’s cigarette lighter to charge the batteries or watch the tv....[BE Prepared!] Also, our friends and neighbors, The Whites, had a gas grill. The adults talked and decided that if power was going to be out for several days, we might as well cook the food in the freezer, set it out for people to eat and watch The Jerry Lewis Labor Day MDA Telethon. We made lemonade out of lemons, and it was memorable, and it bonded us to our neighbors in ways we'd not been previously bonded. We had a block party that was more fun than anything we could have planned without the backdrop of the hurricane. I met people whom I’d never known before in the neighborhood but was comfortable with, after the "getting to know you" session brought about because of that storm. If we ever needed anything - any help at all, they told my mother and I, that we could come to them. Our circle of friends had been expanded because of a Hurricane’s wrath.
So, it was with Irene. When a 100 year-old tree was uprooted like a toothpick from our neighbor’s yard and tossed across the street, blocking access, that "old help philosophy" kicked in. Three trucks pulled up in our front yard and neighbors got out without saying a word. They walked over to where the other guys were buzz-sawing the part of the tree that was impeding cars from being about to get in and out of the cul-de-sac. They stood there in yellow slickers as torrential winds and rains pelted them; did what they had to do, then went on back to their homes. It was an amazing thing to witness. Neighborly. That’s what it’s called, and I'm happy to report that it still exists today. That’s probably one of the positives that came from Irene: in this day and age, when everyone is connected through electronic social networking and communication is predominantly done via a text, it’s good to see some old tried and true form of communication still in existence.
It’s also true that the worst situations, from my experience, bring out the best in people. Many in our area, as of a week later, still did not have power. A few days ago, my husband offered to let any of his co-workers drop by the house to take a hot shower - have a cup of coffee if they wanted to. No one took him up on it, but sometimes, it’s just having the offer that matters – it’s knowing you can do it if you really need to, that gives you the strength to keep going. Options. They’re important to have when one is down and out...
Another thing my husband and I talked about as we weathered the night was how spoiled a society we’ve become. We take for granted things that we consider basic necessities which, 100 years ago didn’t exist for many people: indoor plumbing [bathrooms]; air conditioning; fully electrolyzed homes. How on earth did they survive it? Our forefathers and mothers truly were a heartier stock of people. I know this much about myself: I couldn’t do it - not for a sustained period of time. Even when forced to do it, it’s a challenge. I don’t do excessive heat very well. There is a grumpiness that begins to take root. Trust me, it doesn’t take much either to stir the grumpy pot either.
I remember being a little girl and visiting my grandparents' farm. They didn’t have central air in the house. The bedrooms had cross-breeze ventilation and nothing more unless it was a box fan in the window. I remember a window-box ac unit in the family room where the large, black wood stove was as well. That room was closed off from the rest of the house. It was where the tv was and the telephone. Yeah, they had one of each. No more. It wasn’t needed! My grandparents didn’t live in a society of excess. They lived in an era of practicality. You slept in the bedroom; you ate in the kitchen; you bathed and took care of other matters in the bathroom. Period. You gathered in the family room to watch television or accept a phone call. If you needed privacy regarding the phone call, you could walk out in the room that had a freezer and an armoire and sit on the floor, but that was it. There’s something to be said for that.
Likewise, my parents were in their 30's before they had a television in their bedroom, and it was a tiny little colored 19-inch box on a T-stand. We thought they’d hit the lottery. The most elaborate electronic devise any of us kids had in our room was a record player, the ones that use to play 45 and 78 vinyls. Kids of this generation probably wouldn’t have a clue what they were today. I’ve never felt old until the differences between my childhood and the childhood of kids today was compared. Amazing thing is that it wasn’t that long ago. More amazing still, we didn’t miss not having a tv in our bedroom, and computers here, there and everywhere.... It truly is a George Jetson world we are now living in! That’s one of the realizations my husband and I came to as we texted a few friends and family members to let them know that we were okay, as the winds howled and the rains pelted and a stirred-up lady named, Irene, raged all around us. A sci-fi cartoon of our youth had become a reality, and we truly live now in that George Jetson world that seemed SO far-fetched and unreal as a kid.
As we played our third game of Parcheesi amidst the glow of candlelight and the light cast-off from flashlights, we vowed that we were going to take more time as autumn approaches and the weather becomes cooler to sit out on the front porch, turn off the tv, leave the laptops inside and sit in our rocking chairs to talk like we did in days of yore. It truly is becoming a lost art: verbal communication. For some, it’s already a lost art. We’re going to make a cup of coffee or a glass of ice-tea and go sit on the porch to talk about our day before we make supper. There is an intimacy and a connectedness in doing that, which is as relevant today as it was 100 years ago. I wish more people understood that simple truth. It’s one of the lessons we learned from Irene. The ties that bind us as a couple, a family or a community are some of the simpler, more basic methods of communicating that are dying out like the North American mountain lion, the Florida Panther or the Mannatee. It’s sad...
Irene wasn’t the biggest hurricane to blow along the east coast nor was she the baddest! Granted, she left a LOT of destruction in her wake; caused a great deal of stress; for some, she brought sorrow, and for most who encountered her, a headache. But, she also served as a reminder that some of the very things that we were deprived of, i.e. t.v., computer, video games, etc. wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, because it gave us time, in a forced kind of way, which is sometimes what it takes, to actually talk to each other face-to-face instead of via text, email or cell phone. It gave us time to rediscover the fun in playing a board game; it gave us an opportunity to clear our minds from all the outside noise that clutters our thoughts so that we could actually hear our thoughts for a change, share them with another and receive theirs in a verbal- context return. Imagine that? Conversing verbally in the same room. It CAN still be done!
So, while Irene was a BIG pain in the @$$; she was also a blessing of sorts – however mixed it came to us, we found something positive to take away from her visit.
Goodbye, Irene and goodnight.....we’re glad to see you go! You were a major inconvenience, but you did manage to leave an indelible mark on us with regard to the truly important things in life, and therein we found the blessing of you. We’ll be implementing some of the things we did during those 15 hours as part of our daily routine....bring back heart-to-heart talks sitting on the front porch and sharing a beverage; exchanging hearty laughter as we play board games again and feel that healthy, competitive spirit return within us, as we realize how blest we truly are that the company we’re keeping is actually with someone we truly enjoy keeping company with. Try it sometime....you may just be pleasantly surprised.

Written by Jhill Perran
September 3, 2011